


I'll Tell You Later— Too Late

by GingerLeafTea



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb Widogast Death, Caleb deserved better, F/M, I don't know how to tag things I'm new, Jester mourning, The Ruby of The Sea, i'll tell you later, the Tomb Takers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29567853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerLeafTea/pseuds/GingerLeafTea
Summary: The Mighty Nein finally face the Tomb Takers in the ruins of Aeor, trying to stop them from bringing the living city to the material plane. Things go awry, and the Mighty Nein, out of life saving components and with Caleb on the edge of death, must make a choice.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	I'll Tell You Later— Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work on Ao3, and my first ever Critical Role fanficiton. If you enjoyed the absolute angst dripping from this pic, any Kudos or comments would be appreciated.

“You never told me,” Jester said, a sob catching in her throat as she held the bleeding wizard. The contents of her component pouch had spilled out everywhere. There were no more diamonds. Caduceus was out too. They had used their last one to get Fjord back on his feet before Jester watched as Lucien’s sword pierced through Caleb’s chest. Beau had stepped into action and was trying to keep Lucien busy while Jester negotiated with death itself.

She didn’t realize that she had pressed her hand over his chest, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. His eyes were fluttering open, and then they’d close, and open. Every breath seemed an effort.

“You never told me. You told me that you’d tell me something later, that day in Xhorhas, you promised me, Caleb, you _promised_.”

Caleb released a small chuckle and stared into Jester’s eyes. “You know what it is.” 

“I want to hear you say it,” she said, the tears falling down her face. Caleb’s bloodied hand wiped the tears off of her face, leaving his own crimson blood where they had once fallen. When Caleb gave no response except for a sad smile, Jester said quietly, “you wouldn’t even dance with me. Not after the first.”

“You know I couldn’t. How could I?” Jester saw Caleb’s gaze wander over Jester’s shoulder… toward Fjord. 

“Blueberry—” Caleb began to say. Jester felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Fjord.

“We have to get out of here, Jessie,” Fjord said urgently. Jester risked a glance over her shoulder. Veth could barely stand— she had engaged in a crossbow war with Otis that had wounded both of them. Caduceus looked spent and wounded. His Spirit Guardian beetles were currently attacking Zoran, but Cad had a grimace on his face that Jester recognized all too much— he didn’t have a whole lot left. Beau and Yasha were fighting Lucien and Cree and looked to be on their last leg. The Tomb Takers looked beaten, but not as badly as the Nein. Fjord stood there above her, panting, blood staining his abdomen where he too had been stabbed. 

“I thought we were following them in?” Jester said. 

“We need to regroup. Do you have it in you to get us out of here?” Fjord asked. His gaze flickered between her and Caleb. Jester nodded begrudgingly. 

Fjord took another look at Caleb and then asked, “will he make it?” It took a deep breath and a moment of courage for Jester to shake her head. No. 

Fjord inhaled sharply, surveyed the battlefield, the interior of Aeor, his wounded friends, and made a decision. He fired two Eldritch Blasts at Lucien before turning away and stopping Tyffial’s blade from impacting Jester’s neck. 

Jester turned back to Caleb, the sound of clashing swords right above her head rigning in her ears. Soon enough Fjord had pushed Tyffial far enough back that Jester had a moment to breathe. “I.. I,” she stammered. She couldn’t get the words out. 

Caleb smiled and said , “ _alles wird gut werden_ , _liebling_.” Jester watched as his breaths began more ragged. His eyes began to dim. “Go,” he whispered.

“You never told me,” Jester insisted with a sob. “You never… Caleb.”

Caleb took her face in his hands and said quietly, tears streaming down his face, “Jester Lavorre, _ich liebe dich_...” and then even quieter, “I love you.”

The world fell silent for a moment as his hands fell to the ground, limp. Jester recalled screaming out in agony as she felt Fjord wrench her away from Caleb. His words repeated in her mind. _I love you. I love you. I love you._ She wished he would’ve said them so long ago. She wished she would’ve realized that she felt the same way before it was too late. Everything went from being too vivid to too blurred. She remembered the rest of the Nein rallying around her— her fingers fumbling for components, Fjord’s assurance, one last glance over the shoulder toward Caleb who Lucien had stuck his sword in for good measure and poof— the footfalls of a few of her friends. Caduceus had just enough to get the rest out. She felt numb. She didn’t speak, she didn’t cry, she didn’t scream, she just stared at her feet and said nothing.

They all said something she didn’t hear and gave words of assurance she couldn’t remember. Momma came in that night, long after she had tucked herself away under her childhood sheets and stared at Caleb’s pendant that Fjord had given to her. She wished Caleb would’ve just given it to her. She wished Caleb would have done a lot of things. She wished she had had the awareness to understand sooner, before it was all gone. Marion sat next to her and smoothed back her bloodied hair. Jester remembered her mother taking her into her bathroom, sitting her town in the large claw-foot bathtub and washing the blood out of her hair, face, abdomen— it really was everywhere. She couldn’t tell how much of it was hers— how much was the Tomb Takers’, how much was Caleb’s. It didn’t really matter anyway. The water ran red with it— and Jester said nothing. 

Her mother tucked her into bed, but Jester couldn’t sleep. Every time she shut her eyes the vision of Caleb, red with blood. Every time she opened her eyes the pendant clutched in her hand greeted her— taunted her. It was supposed to keep him safe. But what were prying eyes when those in the command of living cities try to wipe you out. Sleep found her closer to dawn, and she woke with the sun. She couldn’t move. She said nothing. 

_I love you_ , he had said. _I’ll tell you later_ , when he had meant to say it. 

But it was too late.


End file.
